Not Quite Dead: Knights in Autobot Armour
by Whispatchet
Summary: G1, Post Movie. K to be sure. Experiment. This brush with death was closer than the others. If it weren't for these kind strangers, I'd be long dead. Now I must repay the favour and get home. Knight to E5...
1. Where in The Pit am I?

Whispy: My DVD of the movie has gone missing, much to my displeasure, so the basis of this experiment is guesswork. To the best of my recollection, Prowl, whom I have a growing fondness for, was killed in the movie, in the shuttle that was attacked, along with Ironhide and Ratchet. Well, and I will stress that these guys may seem OOC sometimes because I don't know them all that well, this is what may have happened instead. Of course, if Prowl was actually killed in Autobot City, this doesn't work. But, for argument's sake, let's just pretend that he was on the shuttle. OKAY?

Comments and suggestions most welcome, as is telling me that Prowl would do this, not this, or say this this way, or anything along the lines of that. Also applies to the other bots and cons. I'm saving my favourites, oh yes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Decepticons busted a hole in the side of the shuttle and killed everyone on board. That was what happened. That was what must have happened. That was what everyone accepted to have happened.

But, it was not exactly what happened.

- - -

Slowly, the mech's optics came online. Where in the name of Cybertron was he? He tried to sit up, but found the task impossible; not only was his body aching all over, but he was also strapped to… whatever it was he was lying on with very strong bonds indeed. After giving up on that notion, he instead, moved his head so he was looking at something other than the ceiling.

To his further confusion, he didn't recognise the place any more than the ceiling. The room was large, and made of some sort of rust-red metal, although it didn't seem to be actually rusted. There was a set of computer consoles by the far wall to his right, and on the left, a set up that resembled Ratchet's medbay.

Frowning, the mech tried to remember what had happened to get him here. He was on the shuttle to earth… he remembered that. They had only just let Cybertron when the Decepticons attacked, yup, that he remembered too. He moved to stop Megatron, and got blasted with a shot that couldn't have killed him… then… nothing. Maybe the others had kicked the afts of the Decepticons, and gotten him medical attention? Nah. He wouldn't have been strapped down if they had. The Decepticons kept him alive to experiment on him? Don't think so. He's dead, and this is some sort of holding pen before Primus decides if he goes to the Pit or not? Quite unlikely.

So, what was it? Where was he?

The Autobot could not help but ponder the question again and again.

Just then, a door that he couldn't see from where he was opened with a hiss and footsteps approached. A mech, boxy in design, with a red and brown colour scheme, not unlike the walls, walked up to him and looked down at him.

"Ah, the creation is awake!" The mech said.

"Who are you?" The Autobot asked weakly, not very surprised that his voice only slightly sounded like his.

The other mech smiled. "Round here, mechs call me Bishop."

"Bishop?" The Autobot repeated.

"Yup. Quite surprised to see you actually online, you know. We had to give you quite a do over."

"Where am I?"

Bishop smiled. "Don't stress your circuits with that just for the moment, right lad? Let's get you off this berth and back on your feet."

The Autobot felt Bishop undo the shackles that were binding him to the berth, and had a great sense of relief when he was finally able to sit up. The emotion however, did not last very long.

"What in the name of The Pit happened to me?!"

His exclamations were directed at his frame. Once done in brilliant white and black, he was now sporting white and black patches, mixed with a patchwork of red and brown. Personally, he thought he looked like several mechs welded together.

Bishop looked at the stunned Autobot with an almost sad look on his faceplate. "You were lucky; we eventually managed to scavenge enough parts to put your pieces back together. We had to rework a few parts, but they fit in the long run. But, you ain't seen the worst of it yet."

The Autobot stared at the other mech with wide optics. "What… is 'the worst of it'?" He asked, almost fearing the answer.

The red and brown mech strode over to the medical bench and picked up a large mirror. He brought the piece of reflective glass over and held it up for the Autobot to see. The formerly white and black one swallowed.

Across his face were several large gashes, partly stuck together with patches of a brown tinted metallic 'skin', not dissimilar to the material his face was made of in the first place. Half of his crest was gone from his helmet, and the opposite side of said helm was another patch of brown-red material, which had been cut to resemble it's original shape, but didn't match quite right, giving him an asymmetrical look to him. He still had his door wings perched on his back, looking as patchy as the rest of him. One of his optics was white, the other, a familiar looking blue.

The thing that hurt him the most, however, was that one of the patches on his chest cut the red Autobot insignia on his chest clean in half.

"You alright lad? You seem a bit shaken." Bishop pointed out.

The Autobot shook his head and looked at himself in the mirror again. "Certainly… most certainly am." He confirmed.

Bishop put the mirror down. "Well, that's the reason that you've earned the name 'Patchwork' around this place. Mechs have been popping in at all times of the solarcycle just to see you, wether I was fixing a part to your chassis or you were just lying there in stasis. Seeing you up and active is going to send shivers through them, no doubt."

The Autobot frowned. "How long have I been here?" He asked.

Bishop looked thoughtful. "Oh, a bit over a stellar-cycle now." He said casually. "It took us ages to actually find and rework your parts; you've been on life support for the longest time."

The Autobot's optics widened. "Over a _stellar-cycle_?! Primus!" The Autobot could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Optimus would have been worried sick over me missing for over a stellar-cycle!"

Bishop blinked. "Who?" He asked.

"Optimus Prime! Autobot Commander! Don't you know who he is?"

Bishop shook his head. "Nope. Never heard of an Autobot before either. What's an Autobot?"

The patchwork mech's optics widened. "What's a… oh come on, I'm sure you know what they are. You're a Transformer, right?"

Bishop nodded. "I'll admit to that, yup. Everyone here is. What else would we be?"

"And, the Transformer race has been locked in two sided conflict for millennia! You know that too, right?"

Now here Bishop looked thoughtful. "Hn…" He mused. "No, I don't think so. We've never had any conflict here; most mechs are pretty well behaved. But then, we have a dictator to take care of things like that at any rate."

The Autobot blinked. "Dictator?"

"Yeah, our 'King'. See, round here, we're ordered something like Chess. The Command element is the King and Queen, even though the grand majority of the time, the 'Queen' isn't a female. They're just first and second in command is all. Next on the tier are the Bishops, that's me, and then the Knights, who form our main defence system, the Rooks, sometimes, known as Palace Guards, then, Common Folk, or Pawns."

The formerly white and black one blinked again. "Chess, huh?" He said absentmindedly, mostly to himself. He used to play great rounds of Chess with Optimus, the pair of them strategising till the Earth Dawn…until this mess started.

"So lad, tell me: What function have you?" Bishop asked.

The Autobot looked up. "I am… a Tactician."

Bishop beamed. "So Chess is your sort of thing, huh?"

The Autobot nodded.

"Right. Seeing as you're our guest, a guest that the staff have had the pleasure of watching me rebuild truly, but a guest none-the-less, I'll take you to see the King. By what name are you known?"

The Tactician stood and drew himself up to his full height, standing a good head taller than the Bishop.

"Prowl."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

For Future Reference:

Stellar-Cycle 7.5 Earth Months


	2. Comrades in the Republic

Bishop led Prowl through the halls of the complex in silence. The Autobot had a million questions he wanted answers for, but the other mech refused to talk now that they were moving. Prowl had no choice but to save his questions for later.

After a while, other mechs started appearing in the hall. A few payed no attention to the Bishop and the Autobot, but most stopped to make sure what they had saw was real. The patchwork mech was online!

One small group stopped and watched as they walked past, and muttered amongst themselves, before one spoke up.

"Hey, are you a zombie or something?" He asked, in a voice that reminded Prowl of Bluestreak.

Prowl paused and looked back at the group. "No? I don't think so."

Bishop looked over his shoulder at the group and stopped. He knew these three kids well, so he knew that Prowl would not be moving for a while.

The young mechs smiled. "In that case," Said another. "I guess that means that Bishop worked his magic on you alright."

Prowl cocked his head to one side. "I beg your pardon?"

"What's your name, mech?" Asked the first mech.

"Prowl. You?"

The three smiled at each other.

"I'm Bluetip." The first mech said. "These are my friends, Firetower and Boltstorm."

"Boys, you can bore him with your chatter later." Bishop said flatly. "Master Prowl has an appointment with the King."

_Master Prowl?_ Prowl thought, optics widening slightly.

The trio shot the medic identical grins.

"Old Steel Needle can wait, Bishop!" Bluetip exclaimed.

"We wanna talk with Patchwork Prowl some more!" Boltstorm agreed.

Prowl stiffened.

Bishop shook his head at the three. "Ignore them." He advised. "They have a tendency to causing mischief."

Prowl nodded, instantly likening the three to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

Then, the red mech, Firetower, stepped forward, and leant close to the slightly taller creature. Prowl leant back, slightly put off by this invasion of his personal space. "Can I... help you?"

Firetower smiled, and turned back to his friends. "Zu." He said with a nod.

His friends nodded in agreement. Prowl furrowed his brow and looked back at Bishop, who was shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it." The medic said quietly. "Firetower is a little glitched."

"Isn't it your responsibility to try and fix that?" The tactician queried.

Bishop snickered. "All three of those boys are beyond medical help. That's just how they are."

Prowl looked back at the trio. Firetower had returned to Bluetip's side and was talking to him in a strange dialect that he had never come across before, mostly comprised of the sound 'zu', whatever that happened to be.

After a few minutes, Bluetip and Boltstorm looked over at Prowl, both of them with a strange, but pleasant smile on their faces. "Firetower says that we shouldn't keep you any longer. But, we'd like to talk to you again after you're finished talking to the King, if that's okay with you. He wants to ask you about that mark on your chest."

Prowl blinked at the trio, but then nodded, and looked at Bishop, who looked to be quite relived that he could at last leave the three behind in the hall, and started moving off again.

- - -

Bishop stopped in front of a pair of tall doors. He reached a hand out and knocked, and the door opened of its own accord, but the medic didn't seem to be worried. He entered the room, and Prowl followed.

The Autobot found himself in a long room with a high ceiling. At the end, a mech with a dark grey colour scheme was sitting behind a desk, writing something on what appeared to be paper. The grey mech looked up at the sound of Bishop and Prowl's footsteps, and smiled.

"If I didn't know any better," He said, standing up and skirting around his desk. "…I'd say you got our guest working again."

Bishop smirked and grunted, in a way that reminded him far too much of Ratchet to be healthy. "You obviously don't know any better." The medic huffed. "Might I introduce our guest; Prowl." He made a sweeping gesture towards the Autobot.

Prowl gave a slight bow as he thought was appropriate.

The 'King' smiled. "There's no need for any of that. You are a guest, Prowl. You are to be treated with the utmost respect."

Prowl straightened. "I've not had so much respect that I don't need to give it to others. I don't intend to be out of place here… wherever I am."

The grey mech chuckled. "You are certainly the amusing sort, Prowl. Come in. Thankyou Bishop, you are dismissed."

The medic bowed his head slightly, and strode past the immense doors, the pair of them slamming shut behind him. The King turned to the tactician.

"I am Steel Needle. I am the head of our community." He said. "I'd imagine that Bishop has already taken the liberty of explaining our hierarchy?"

Prowl nodded.

"I thought so. Bishop is like that."

"He seems to be similar in personality to someone in my unit… someone who held the same function, as a matter of fact." Prowl admitted.

Steel Needle snickered. "I wouldn't doubt it. Head Medics, in my experience, tend to be that way."

Prowl nodded, and looked about the seemingly needlessly large room. "Where am I?" He asked.

"Claret." Steel Needle answered simply, turning to his desk and shuffling a few items on the surface.

Prowl looked at the King and arched an optic ridge. "Claret? Isn't that…"

"A synonym for the word 'red' in English, yes, I know. You may have noticed; our station has somewhat of a red quality to it."

Prowl was about to agree, but one particular word in the King's sentence stuck in his head. "Station?" He asked. "What do you mean, station?"

Steel Needle looked at his guest carefully. "You haven't the slightest idea where you are, have you." He stated, nodding when Prowl nodded in affirmation. "Well, Prowl, let me show you."

The grey mech pressed a button on his desk, and a large panel in the side wall slid away, revealing a large window. Prowl looked out, as he was expected to do, and his mismatched optics went wide. It was a view of space, and, scattered about, was dozens of space stations and satellites.

"Welcome to the Republic." Steel Needle said, smiling at the Patchwork Autobot, whose somewhat shocked look had not yet abated.

- - -

Elsewhere on Claret Station, three young mechs were getting an audio full from their favourite medic.

"…HOW DARE YOU!" He was in the middle of yelling at them. "You DARED to talk to a guest like that, as if he was one of your normal targets!"

"Zu! Zuya tozu Prowl!" Firetower protested.

"I don't wanna hear your excuses, Firetower!" Bishop snapped, thankful that he had managed to learn even a little of the red mech's language. "You DID know he wasn't one of us. You practically watched me rebuild him!"

"But he was so dinged up when we found him that no one could tell who he was! He might have been!" Bluetip countered.

"If he HAD been, I would have known! You think I don't know how every mech on this Station works? How long exactly have I been doing this job?"

"You can remember that far back?" Boltstorm commented. In retrospect, a dumb thing to do, as, finally at snapping point with the trio, the CMO grabbed the nearest thing he could, which ended up being a laser scalpel, and throwing it in their direction.

Firetower caught the blade of the scalpel in the shoulder, and as he uttered a squeal of pain, the corridor was suddenly filled with flame. The medic was sent flying one way, and the three boys scrambled in the other. It was the same thing that happened every solar-cycle. Most of the Station had been fireproofed by now.

Although most people referred to it as 'Trio-Proofed'.

The young mechs regrouped in Bluetip's room.

"Ahhh man…" Boltstorm sighed, falling back onto his friend's recharge platform. "I thought we were doing to get pounded that time."

Bluetip frowned, and moved closer to Firetower to inspect the damage done to his shoulder, which, thankfully, wasn't too bad. The white mech reached into a first aid box near the wall, and pulled out a protective cover, and stuck it to the mech's armour to protect the cut while his self repair systems did their job.

"Taking a stab at Bishop's age didn't help matters much y'know, 'Storm." He pointed out.

Boltstorm huffed. "I couldn't help it! It just came outta my mouth!"

"Zu Boltstorm… zu tego Bishop zu, zu zukezu." Firetower said, smiling half-heartedly at his friend.

"'Tower's got a point…" Boltstorm answered with a sigh, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back against the wall.

Bluetip smirked. "Yeah. We do get ourselves into that situation often enough, I suppose it's become automatic to rail him."

"Still…"

There was a silence between the three.

"Zu Bluetip…" Firetower said cautiously, glancing at the far wall. "Prowl zu, otozu nazu des zu ka?"

The white mech looked at the fire starter with a surprised look on his face. "Are you nuts?" He returned. "If we do that, nothin' will save our hides from Bishop. And we don't know how much of a punch our guest packs. He might kick our skidplates to the pit and back for doin' it!"

Firetower shook his head. "Zu zure ketozu zu, yazu Prowl." He stressed. "Zuko, eh nozu. Prowl zu, zu gozaruzu."

The two older mechs looked at each other. Firetower certainly had a way with words… figuratively speaking.

"Will it even work on this guy?" Boltstorm asked, turning to Bluetip. "He's not exactly like you and me in make."

Bluetip shook his head. "It should work."

"Zu! Prowl kozu dezu zu zumoure!"

Bluetip smiled. "We could offer it as making amends for our words before. That'll even get Bishop off our backs if he finds out."

"Zuuu!!" Firetower squealed happily, throwing his arms in the air and letting little licks of fire dance off his fingertips.

Boltstorm shook his head. Any normal person would leave the white mech and the glitched mech to their odd pastimes. But, if he wasn't a little glitched himself, Boltstorm enjoyed being part of the 'Trouble-Trio', if not for the fact that they were half the reason Claret station looked like a floating pile of debris, but for the fact that he knew for sure that the slightly older Bluetip, and the slightly younger Firetower, would always be there for him… and he would always be there for them too. They were ridiculously close, those three. Any closer and they may very well have been triplets; formed from a spark that split three ways before getting the chance to unite with a body.

"We'll ambush him as soon as he gets out of Steel Needle's office." He said. "And he will grace my workshop with his timely presence."

- - -

"Republic?" Prowl wondered, still looking out at the various space stations that were scattered around.

Steel Needle nodded. "Yes indeed. The Republic. A collection of many stations and satellites, home to some of the universe's most unusual life forms, and talented workers. Our station is known for its exceptional mechanics and engineers."

Prowl tore his optics away from the window and looked at the leader of Claret Station. "How far away from Cybertron is this place?"

"Cybertron?" Steel Needle looked a little confused for a moment, before realisation dawned on his faceplate. "Ahhh… I remember… Cybertron, yeah." The silver mech strode back to his desk and sat down. "My predecessor talked about a place called Cybertron. Said it was a planet or somethin'."

"Our race's _home planet_?" Prowl offered.

Steel Needle shrugged. "Somethin' like that, maybe. But that was millennia ago. I've been the King here for a long time; Bishop still used his sparked name back when I came to power." He suddenly looked amused. "I'm the only one who remembers Bishop's sparked name."

Prowl frowned. "This is… a problem."

"Why?"

"I have to get back to Cybertron… back to the rest of my unit… We're in the middle of a war; I can't afford to be away for this long!"

Steel Needle cocked his head to one side and stood up. "Prowl." He said gently. "No one knows where Cybertron is. You'd be lucky to find mechs on this station that have ever heard of Cybertron. If the old king was still around, maybe, but, I've never been there. Bishop has never been there. We were all built right here, in this station."

Prowl tried and failed to repress a groan.

Steel Needle skirted the desk and gave the tactician a gentle pat on the shoulder. "For as long as you are here, you will have our support, and our assistance, Prowl." He said. "If there's anything else we can do for you…"

Prowl shook his head. "You've already brought me back from the brink of death. I'm already in your debt, and I can't ever truly repay it. Until I find a way home, I will try to be of service to you."

Steel Needle smiled. "If that is what you wish."

- - -

He never knew what hit him. He was already in a bad situation; no idea where he was and almost no one having even _heard_ of their home planet, let alone how far away it was. He had left the office of the Claret Station King, and was going to see if he could find the medic, Bishop, to talk to him again, when BAM.

Next thing he knew, he was looking up at yet another strange ceiling.

Prowl tried to turn his head, but it was being held down. It was then he noticed the mech next to him, face covered by a welding mask, pressing a soldering iron against the side of his helmet.

"Hold still. I'm almost finished." The mech said, in a voice Prowl felt he had heard recently.

Minutes ticked by, and then the soldering iron was pulled away, and the mech removed the mask.

"Mission successful." He said, offering Prowl a smirk. "Greetings, Master Prowl. Remember me?"

Prowl sat up, relieved to find he hadn't been bound. "You're… Boltstorm…" Prowl said quietly.

"Yep, that's me. And you remember the other gang members, Bluetip and Firetower, over there." Boltstorm motioned with an arm towards the other side of the room, and Prowl turned, spotting the other two mechs sitting on the floor. Both were deep in recharge, and looked quite peaceful; Bluetip was sitting against the wall, and Firetower was curled into the older mech's side.

"Installing the chip took longer than their attention spans can stretch." Boltstorm explained. He noticed the cursory glance Prowl was giving their position in relation to each other, and smiled. "Don't give how they are sitting a second thought, Master Prowl." He said. "Bluetip is like an older brother to Firetower. Fire's creator was scrapped for crimes against the King, not long after the kid was activated. Until he met Blues and me, he was alone. He's gotten somewhat attached to Blues."

Boltstorm began putting away his tools. "Steel Needle thinks that Firetower was part of his creator's plan to overthrow him. His power is high for a runt, and his glitched vocals just add more to his weirdness. You can learn some of it just by listening to him, and then us, but the only real way to translate is to have one of these…" He held a little silver computer chip up between two fingers. "Which you are now the proud owner of."

"What?" Prowl exclaimed.

"I installed a Zu Talk Translator Chip in you just now."

"What for?!"

"Why not? It'll give you an advantage over the others on the station; you'll be able to understand Firetower!"

"What if I don't _want_ to?" Prowl bit back.

Boltstorm smiled. "Trust me. You'd want to."

Prowl was about to spit out a retort when a vid screen on the wall flashed to life, displaying a very annoyed image of the head medic himself, in all his glory.

"Where is he, you little plague?!" He demanded.

Boltstorm turned to face the screen, and gave Bishop a charming smile. "Why, whomever are you referring to, Bishop, sir?" He asked. "You wouldn't happen to mean Master Prowl, would you?"

Bishop was smart enough to know that Prowl was likely to be in the room somewhere, but out of sight of the screen, and he shot a curse so sharp and so loud in Firetower's language that the red mech in question snapped awake and jumped, squealing in surprise, and singeing Bluetip's door wings. The older mech hardly noticed the flame, but picked up the curse loud and clear.

"The medic knows us well, huh." He commented, a sleepy haze still clouding his better judgement and awareness patterns.

"As soon as I find that little hole in the wall of yours," Bishop threatened. "I'm coming over there and I'm gunna –"

Whatever it was the head medic had planned for the trio was interrupted by a High Priority Call klaxon, and the image changed from a peeved off medic, to the King of Claret Station.

"What have you done now?" The King asked. "I could hear Bishop cursing from here."

Prowl failed to repress a snicker; Bishop was very much just like his dear friend Ratchet, in temperament and profession both.

"Nothing illegal or immoral, Steel Needle." Boltstorm said respectfully. "Although I will admit, there is a lot that we could be doing that avoids those categories and still pisses Bishop off."

"True." Steel Needle agreed. "But what is it this time? I've never heard him swear quite so loud in Zu Talk before."

Bluetip stood from his place near the wall and wandered over to the screen. "He's probably noticed our internment of Master Prowl in Bolt's lab, King." He said. Steel Needle arched an optic ridge at the white and blue mech, so he continued. "Nothing to worry about, sir. He is free to come and go as he pleases, provided he keeps the location of Bolt's lab to himself." Bluetip turned so Steel Needle could see past him, and see Prowl still sitting on the work bench.

"Have they hurt you or caused you discomfort in any way, Prowl?" He asked, addressing the tactician.

Prowl shook his head. "No." The patchwork mech wondered if Steel Needle knew about the translator chip the trio had developed. Did he have one, maybe?

Steel Needle smiled. "That's good. Very good."

Firetower strolled over and peeked at Steel Needle from behind Prowl. (Steel Needle, sir, why the high priority alert?) He asked.

Prowl stared at the young mech. He sounded completely different when his words were ones he understood. The Autobot looked back to Steel Needle, to see what he would say.

But the alluded one simply looked blank. After a pause, he turned to Bluetip. "Translation?"

Bluetip smiled. "He asked why you used the high priority alert to contact us. Master Prowl's important, but not _that_ important… is he?"

Prowl cocked his head to one side, but said nothing.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to Boltstorm." Said the King. "We've need for our best scavenger to inspect a KTK cargo."

"A KTK cargo?!" Boltstorm exclaimed, mouth agape. "Why in the Republic are the KTK sending us stuff?!"

Prowl turned to look at Bluetip. "KTK?" He asked.

Bluetip looked to their guest.

"I suppose his Royal Non-Royalness explained the Republic to you when you were reunited with him earlier today, Master Prowl?"

"He did, but please, just Prowl is fine." Prowl urged, feeling quite ill at ease by the honorific.

"Prowl." Bluetip said respectfully, bowing his head in thanks to call him plain by his name, before continuing. "KTK is what we call one of the many races that make up the Republic. Their full name is Kata-Tenjimasu Kokoro, sometimes also called 'Kata-Ten'. They reside in the Quintessence Station, although sometimes even that is called by another name; Ghost Station."

"Ghost Station?" Prowl repeated.

"The Kata-Tenjimasu Kokoro are not a dangerous race, nor are they unfriendly." Steel Needle contributed. "But they tend to keep to themselves. Trade ventures like this… are very rare."

Boltstorm strode over to a control panel and typed in a few commands. A window on the far wall opened, similarly to how the one in Steel Needle's office had behaved. And there, in plain sight, was a silver-white shuttle, waiting just outside the station. But there was something odd about the KTK shuttle that Prowl just couldn't put a manipulator on; was it just him, or did the silver-white craft seem to be surrounded by a pale blue fog?

"You can see the aura, can't you, Prowl." Bluetip asked.

"It looks like… fog…"

"It is, somewhat." Steel Needle said gently. "A by product of their habit. Not many can actually see the fog around them and their machines. Although it is unclear why; the people who can't see it are no worse off than those who can."

Prowl turned to Steel Needle. "What is 'their habit'?"

"We don't know how, nor do we care to know how, but somehow, the KTK, resurrect the souls of the dead."

Prowl's mismatched optics became perfectly round. But he had nothing to say to that.

Steel Needle considered Prowl for a moment, before looking to Boltstorm. "Bolt, I want you to come and inspect their wares. And, bring Prowl, if it would please him to come."

Prowl nodded.

(May we also come?) Firetower asked.

"I'm going to guess that was a request to attend?" Steel Needle looked to Bluetip for confirmation, and the white mech nodded.

"Yes, if you wish. But don't get in the way of Boltstorm doing his job."

(Yay!)

"Come." Boltstorm said, motioning towards a door on the far side of the room. "There is work to be done."

And the four mechs left the room.

- - -

Prowl was quite surprised to note that Boltstorm's lab was built inside an air duct system in the side of the station. How the heck they managed to surmount such a large area in such a small space, Prowl didn't think he wanted to know. Even if he had, the three younger mechs bustled him along the corridors of the station so urgently that he never would have been able to ask.

The Trio led him to the lowermost level of the station, to a dock, where the KTK ship was pulling in. As it came to a stop, the blue fog that surrounded it seemed to be pushed out into the rest of the room by an unfelt wind, and Prowl shuddered uncomfortably as he felt it run against his armour, or maybe he couldn't feel it. He didn't know.

There were other mechs in the dock, also waiting to inspect the cargo, Prowl presumed. But, when the door to the shuttle opened, none of them made a move, except Boltstorm. The Autobot cocked his head to one side, and frowned. The gesture did not go unnoticed, and Bluetip put a hand on the patchwork mech's shoulder.

"Bolt is Claret Station's best scavenger, and he's the best at evaluating trade cargo. Those other guys over there, they are only here to cart about whatever it is the KTK are bringing us."

"I see." Prowl nodded, and looked back at the ship in time to see Boltstorm enter.

The young mech was gone for about ten minutes before he exited the shuttle again. He had a contemplative look on his face, and he strode over to rejoin his comrades.

(What did they bring, Boltstorm?) Firetower asked.

"Transformer carcass." The older mech said, glancing back over his shoulder. "They probably did their spooky voodoo thing on it and didn't need the body any more." He looked over at the mechs waiting on the other side of the dock. "Go get it, you lot. The KTK didn't want anything for it. As if that's a surprise." He added, looking back at his friends as the others moved off.

"Cause of death, you think?" Bluetip asked.

"One bloody big gun." Boltstorm returned. "Someone blasted one hell of a hole out of his shoulder, and part of his neck on the right side. He would have died pretty damned quick after a shot like that."

The Carriers started to exit the shuttle with the cargo in tow, and Prowl looked over. He stumbled back a step and let out a strangled gasp, grabbing the attention of his friends. "What's up, Prowl?" Bluetip asked, also looking over at the mech the Carriers were hauling out.

Prowl felt a tightness in his chest and looked like he could either start to cry or beat the crap out of something.

"Wheeljack…" He breathed, looking at the dead face of his friend.


	3. Slightly Morbid

_Several months ago, before Unicron's attack on Cybertron…_

"Aw, CRAP!"

Wheeljack heard the curse only a moment before he heard gunshots. Before he knew it, the mech next to him was deader than dead, and others around him were quickly following.

"Crap…" Wheeljack said, imitating his dead comrade, before taking to his heels and bolting like a petro-bunny.

Not to say that the engineer couldn't fight, nor that he didn't want to, but against this many Decepticons, he was more likely to get slagged before he could so much as wing one of them. So he ran for the city as fast as his Lancia legs would take him.

But the Decepticons got to him first. One slagger or another, Wheeljack didn't know who, pegged him real good, and before he knew what was happening, he was lying face up on the floor, warnings flashing in front of his optics, and an unhealthy amount of Energon seeping out of the somewhat painful hole on his right where his shoulder used to be. And oh, some of his neck had been torn away too. Nice.

Wheeljack felt his systems fading out quickly. So _this_ is what death is like.

He could just tell that the colour was seeping out of his armour already, as was typical of a corpse. He'd never put any thought towards why they lost their colour when they died, but… oh Primus, death was making him ramble. In his head. Sweet, insane then dead. Couldn't he have gone insane _after_ dying?

_Damn_. He thought. Then he was gone.

- - -

It was a month before Autobot city started coming back to life. The bodies of many Autobots were still being gathered up from the attack, Wheeljack's among them. There were also Autobots who had fallen in the shuttle attack lying among the dead, although three of those Autobots were missing.

But, finally, Rodimus Prime and Ultra Magnus thought they had found all the bodies from the attack, and arranged for them to be transported to a mausoleum satellite.

As the large shuttle that was intended for the bodies descended in Autobot city airspace, two light blue ethereal creatures appeared on one of the tall towers of the city. They watched as the Autobots began moving their dead inside the shuttle, one by one. Then, spotting one particular body, they dove down, and scurried towards it. Just as Ultra Magnus was reaching down to pick up the body, the two blue creatures snatched it right of his hands and vanished. Magnus fell back in surprise, causing Rodimus and the others to look over.

"Magnus! What's the matter?" Rodimus asked, looking over at the second in command with an odd expression on his face.

Magnus looked up, still slightly shaken. "I… have no idea…" He said. "But… Wheeljack's body is gone!"

Rodimus frowned, and looked up at the tall towers of the city.

"Metroplex," the Autobot commander began. "Did you see what happened?"

The ground below their feet trembled slightly as the Cityformer Metroplex considered the red armoured commander.

"I saw something." Metroplex's gentle, yet sometimes booming voice stated. "But I dunno what to make of it. Come to the Command Centre, commander, and I'll show you."

Rodimus looked at Magnus and the other Autobots. "Continue loading the shuttle. I'll be back in a minute."

- - -

Rodimus Prime stepped into the Command Centre of Autobot City, also known as Metroplex, and lowered himself into a chair before a set of monitors.

"Alright Metro' show me."

"Gotcha."

The screen in front of Rodimus snapped on, and Metroplex showed some video footage of Ultra Magnus moving the bodies into the shuttle. The young commander watched as his second knelt down to pick Wheeljack's body up, when a blue blur shot past and whisked the former engineer away.

"Play it again, but slow it down."

"Sure."

The footage played again, this time at half the speed. Rodimus' optics grew wide at the sight that played out before him; two ghost-like creatures, one that looked human shaped, the other, more like a… a… Primus only knows what. Sorta looked like a TV with feet. He watched as these odd creatures jumped down from nowhere, grabbed Wheeljack by his underarms, and hoisted him off.

Metroplex played the slowed down footage a further three times for good measure, before falling quiet to hear from the smaller Autobot.

Rodimus considered the footage for a while, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper with every passing minute. Eventually, Metroplex gave up on esp, and asked him.

"Rod? What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that… some strange blue creatures came here today. And, moving so fast that we could hardly see them…" He paused and crinkled his nose in disgust. "…they stole Wheeljack's body."


	4. Ghost of my Former Self

Note: Chapter Three Content has been revised and updated.

* * *

The two semi-corporeal creatures strode through the station with the thing between them. A few others looked at them as they passed, curious as to what had been brought in, but said nothing to them.

After a short while, they arrived at a large central chamber with a high ceiling and a machine in the centre. It was this machine they approached, carrying their load as if it were a delicate glass treasure.

"Sire." Said the taller of the two creatures in an eerie, slightly echoing voice as they looked up at the machine from where they stood. "We have brought another body for you."

The machine erupted into life with a fuss, blue lights flicking on and shimmering, and plumes of blue-white fog hissing out of the many vents and other gaps in the machine's mighty form.

**"Did it once hold brilliance?"** The machine asked, its voice deep and velvety, but holding the same eerie echo as that of the smaller creature.

"By his kind's standards, he was above brilliant. He was an engineer, and created many wonderful and interesting devices. Many of his kind were greatly hurt by his passing, which was caused by this wound near his head." Was the answer.

There was a short, contemplative silence before the machine spoke again.

**"Very well. Place him inside. I shall call on his Voice."** It said. **"Then, I would like you to fetch TakiRyu. He shall be this spirit's guide."**

The two creatures moved closer as a large section of panelling slid away, revealing a cavity. They carefully lay the corpse inside the space on his back, and clamped it down before moving away. The panelling slid back around the body with a hiss, sealing it in.

**"You are the first we have had in a long time, lost one."** Said the machine's deep and powerful voice, as various systems started up through out it's structure. **"Let me hear your Voice, and I shall bring you back again."**

There were several high pitched tones, and surges of cerulean energy were pumped into the shell, making it twitch and arch it's back. Then, the whistling was joined by another sound; a voice… a male voice with a slightly robotic accent, screaming in agony as loud as it could. The creatures around seemed oblivious to the screams, blocking out the wrenching sound.

The scream and the whistling continued for a long time, seemingly hours. But then the tenors stopped, leaving only the scream for a few moments, before it too subsided, ending in what sounded like a pained groan, as if the torture had been stopped, but the pain remained.

Slowly, the large machine drew out all the blue energy from the body inside it, and siphoned it off into a cylindrical glass chamber on it's side. The energy bobbed and danced inside the chamber, taking several shapes, one after another in quick succession, before settling on one form; a humanoid, but boxy form that mimicked the body that rested still inside the large machine. It curled up into a ball and rested on the bottom of the chamber, it's blue body flicking and pulsing, slowly adopting white and grey into it's appearance.

After a short while, it's movements calmed, and it was still, curled up on the bottom of the concave, looking almost identical to the corpse from which it had come, save the occasional lick of blue smoke that wafted off the seams in it's body, and the blue shimmer that occasionally overtook the white.

**"I've heard your voice, Cybertronian."** The machine said in it's deep voice. **"I've heard your pain, your anguish… your unfinished business."** The creature was considered carefully. **"Rest well, young one. For there is much learning and much growing to be done when you awaken…"**

- - -

When he activated his optics, all he saw was a blue blur.

"…H-huh?"

He stared at… whatever it was that happened to be in front of his optics for a few moments, watching as the haze slowly dissipated.

"…I think he's waking up…" Said a distant voice.

He raised his head and looked around. There was an awful lot of blue about, most of it taking indistinct shapes in front of his unfocused optics. What he could see though, was that he was inside some sort of glass surround.

"What the…?" He pulled himself into a sitting position, grunting in discomfort as he did so. His whole body felt strange. He felt energised but drained, and like someone had been jumping on him for a megacycle or two.

"Oh, yup, defiantly awake." Said a different, through equally distant voice.

He looked up again, this time his optics taking in his surroundings with undoubtable clarity.

He was indeed, in a glass cage… or perhaps tube would have been the better word. Pure and perfect irony that he end up inside a freaking test tube. There were a few creatures around his glass prison, looking in at him as if he were an animal in the zoo to be gawked at. They were all different shades of blue, and so different in shape to him, and then to each other that it was mind boggling.

"Hey there, newbie." One of the creatures said, putting what was presumed to be a hand on the glass. "Welcome back to the green flag."

"Green flag?" He echoed. "What green flag? What happened?"

There was murmuring from many of the crowd. "Wow, he sounds strange." Was one of the comments he picked up.

Strange? I don't sound strange. They're the ones who sound strange, with that odd echo. He thought quietly.

Just then the room was stilled as a deep voice boomed through it.

**"Leave him be!"** The voice ordered. **"Younglings are not to be ogled at!"**

He half blanched. "Youngling? I hope you're not talking about me! I'm no youngling!" He snapped.

There was a collective gasp. "You've got some nerve on you, runt, for talking to the King that way! Show a little more respect and be thankful he brought you back at all!"

He stared at the blue creature that had spoken in a silence of a creature whose supply of words and responses had just run out. The silence stretched, and a few of the creatures began to fidget in the awkward hush. Eventually though, it was broken by a quiet, "…What?" from the being in the glass chamber.

A deep sigh resonated from somewhere nearby. **"He means no offence. This is his first awakening and he does not know what you speak of. Go. All of you! Leave him alone!"**

And the room was empty in moments.

**"Apologies."** Said the deep voice after the room had been cleared. The glass walls slowly started to rise to allow him exit. **"We have not had a new addition to our ranks for a long time. They have forgotten how confused and disorientated one is after being awoken."**

He scrambled away from the tube as fast as he could as soon as he could fit through the gap. "I haven't got a clue what you are talking about." He said, pulling himself to his feet and looking around. The room had sheer walls, and one door. The chamber he had been in was attached to a large black machine in the centre of the room, which seemed to extend far past both the ceiling and the floor. It flashed occasionally with blue lights over it's exterior, and it was hard for the engineer to decide exactly what it was supposed to do.

But the more confounding thing was, although he was sure that someone had been holding half of the conversation, he could not see the owner of the voice.

"Where are you? And, a who, and where in the Pit am I would be nice too."

There was a deep chuckle. **"I am called Seimei Kikai. I am the leader of our kind, who live here, on this space station called Quintessence."** There was a pause that would have been filled with a smile had a mouth been present. **"As for where I am, look before you. The large machine that fills much of this room is where my consciousness resides."**

The smaller creature looked up at the black machine. "You're inside that?"

**"Pretty much. I have been integrated into its technology."**

"Uh huhhh…" He looked over himself. "What happened to me? What was all that talk about being 'awoken' and 'brought back'?"

Seimei paused. **"You died, young one."**

"Say what?!"

**"Exactly that. Our scouts found you, killed before your duty was done. Rather nasty wound too." **The King paused. **"Our scouts took your body and brought you here, and I resurrected your spirit."**

"Stealing a corpse. Nice." He huffed, crossing his arms, before the latter half of the machine's sentence hit home and he looked up again. "What do you mean by resurrecting my 'spirit'? You didn't just fix me?"

Seimei would have shaken his head had he had one. **"We are not mechanics or engineers. The form you find yourself in now is a blend of your soul and the energy that allows our kind to reside in the realm of the living. It looks like your old body, because you will it."**

"I don't recall willing anything…" he looked down over himself.

**"It is the form you are comfortable with and are used to. It is your default."**

There was a quiet pause as the smaller creature contemplated this development.

"How did you bring me back, anyway?" He asked.

Seimei chuckled. **"You would not understand it. The creator of this technology has long since vanished from this plain of existence, and there are countless failed attempts on my part to teach it to others, some more skilled at engineering than even you."**

He looked surprised.

**"I heard lots of things inside you when I was bringing you back. Your ideas, successes, failures, a grand amount of memories. You are more brilliant than you or your kind truly realise, Autobot Wheeljack."**

"Uh, thanks." Wheeljack looked down over himself again, this time noticing the wisps of blue smoke that was leaching out of his seams. "What the…" He raised a hand up to swish it away, but his hand passed though it as if it wasn't even there.

**"Do not worry about the smoke. The energy that makes up your form creates the smoke of its own volition. Even I do not quite know why. But it causes no harm."**

"Oh…kay…"

Just then, the door to the room opened, and a large, birdlike creature flew in, landing beside Wheeljack with a flap of very large wings.

**"Ah, TakiRyu. Welcome."** Said Seimei.

"Thankyou, King." The creature looked up at Wheeljack. "Is this the one you wish me to guide?"

**"It is. This is Wheeljack. Wheeljack, this is TakiRyu. He will teach you about our kind, and what you are now capable of."**

Wheeljack blinked his optics in surprise and looked back up at Seimei. "Capable of?"

**"TakiRyu will explain. He is very wise."**

TakiRyu looked at Wheeljack with his sharp purple eyes, before taking to the air again with a beat of his great wings. Then he did something interesting. He shrank.

Going from about the same size as Wheeljack, which, at 25 feet, was nothing to be sneezed at, to about the same size as Laserbeak. Then he perched himself on Wheeljack's shoulder.

"It is nice to meet you, Wheeljack. I am TakiRyu. I would be honoured to show you around the station, and teach you."

"By the look of it, I've got a lot to learn." Wheeljack commented. "How'd you shrink like that?"

"That was simple. You can perform such a feat too."

"No, I can't."

**"You can."** Seimei Kikai interjected. **"All of our kind can, and you, Wheeljack, are now one of our kind."**

"Hnnn… Dunno."

"Come." Said the birdlike TakiRyu as he struck the air with his wings and flew in the space before the inventor. "I will show you."

He glided effortlessly towards the door, and, left with little option, Wheeljack followed.

- - -

As they walked through the station (Well, Wheeljack walked, TakiRyu flew.) the birdlike creature presented the engineer with a brief overview of their kind and their hierarchy. The engineer was fascinated. Apparently, the long ago gone Designer created the Resurrection Machine to bring back a loved one from the dead. Then they used it to return a scientist who had been killed in a war. Then Seimei was brought back, and it went from there.

"That's pretty neat." Wheeljack commented. "I bet Prowl would be at home in this Republic place. He was a Chess sort of guy." The former Lancia looked down the hall behind him. "So Seimei is the 'King'. That means he's the leader. Who holds the other ranks?"

"We have been without a Queen for a long while." TakiRyu explained. "We have four Knights, one Bishop, and one Rook, me."

"You're the Rook, Taki? You keep everyone in line?"

"It is a simple job, everyone is very well behaved. Most are so grateful to be returned to the land of the living that they do as told without hesitation."

"Huh." The engineer looked towards a window in the wall, which allowed one to look out into space. "How many stations are there?"

"A few. I think there is close to fifty or sixty stations, but there are also small satellites that orbit some stations that count towards the population."

"And there's that many different races, all in the one place?"

"That's correct."

He looked back at his guide. "Any of my kind?"

Taki looked down. "Your kind is here, Wheeljack. You're not what you were anymore."

Wheeljack looked hurt.

"We can not bring creatures back from the dead as what they were. That is the price for bringing them back in the first place."

"So now what, I'm just another face in the Kata-Tenjimasu Kokoro crowd?" Wheeljack demanded.

"You are unique, just like every other member of our kind. We have spirits from more races than you have ever encountered before. "

"So? This body you've given me may be like yours but at heart I'm still Cybertronian, and I'm still an Autobot! I need to get back to my friends!"

Taki shook his head. "You need the King's permission to leave the station. And even then, you must return."

"Is that just a rule, or is that a physical need?"

The creature looked uncomfortable, and said nothing. Wheeljack sighed and lowered himself to his haunches to be level with the creature.

"Look, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for being brought back. This certainly beats being dead by a mile. But I still have a duty to perform, and that duty is to my faction."

Taki seemed to consider this very valid argument. After a few moments, he nodded. "Agreed." He said, although he still sounded down. "L-let's go. I still need to teach you how to change your shape."

"Sweet as, I can still transform." Wheeljack joked, smiling to himself when that seemed to cheer Taki up.

- - -

Wheeljack was pleased to discover that changing his shape, the most prominent skill of the Kata-Tenjimasu Kokoro, was quite simple. It was all a matter of will, and he had a decent amount of that. Primus, it was easier than transforming had been! No need to worry about how this part goes here and there and stuff, your whole self just changes.

So, within an hour, Wheeljack was zipping around in a shape that resembled his old Lancia alternate mode, with Taki flying behind him.

"Wheeljack!" The bird creature called after him. "Calm down!"

"Life's too short to be calm!" Wheeljack answered, choosing to forget that 'life' meant something completely different to him now.

The bird sighed and continued to follow.

Wheeljack sped through the halls of the station with very childish glee. But then, after taking a turn far too quickly, he was flung into the air, and shifted back to his 'default' form before landing on the floor in a heap, giggling very unprofessionally.

Taki landed near him. "Are you done being stupid?"

"Hey shut up. I'm enjoying myself here."

Taki smiled. "Well, that's always a plus."

- - -

Elsewhere in the station, Seimei Kikai was deep in thought. Their newest member was sure to be restless, he knew. He had seen Wheeljack's memories concerning the war, and just how much of an impact his passing had made. The Autobots were put at a disadvantage without him, that was of no doubt.

So, what to do now? Keep him here, when he would definitely want to leave to find his friends and work with them again? Or let him go? If you wanted to do the _right_ thing… he'd have to let him leave.

But how would the Autobots react, seeing a dead comrade back again? Truly, he is a ghost to them now. To everyone now. That is their nature, and the meaning of their name; Kata-Tenjimasu Kokoro… shape changing spirit… Even he, who seems so defined, is no less vague than the others. That is just one of the ways they pay for their resurrected life.

But Wheeljack, like the others, had a duty. That is why they were brought back in the first place; so they could do their duty. And Wheeljack couldn't exactly do it from Quintessence Station.

What to do?

- - -

Wheeljack on the other hand, was having great fun with his new shape changing ability. Just for kicks, and to show Taki his old comrades, Wheeljack had taken the form of Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Prowl, and many other Autobots.

"You loved them all very much." Taki said as the engineer took his usual form.

"I guess you could call it that." Wheeljack answered, looking away. "We were all close. We had won many victories together and survived many losses. So… I gotta find my way back to them. To help them."

Taki nodded, but was not hopeful for his companion's chances of getting out. Wheeljack picked up the emotion easily.

"You don't think Seimei will let me go?" He asked.

"He may. He may not. I can't be certain. That decision is his and his alone to make. As our King, he needs to do what is best for all of us. The needs of the many outweigh…"

"…the needs of the few. …Or the one." Wheeljack finished, recognising the phrase. "I know. Prowl liked that saying."

The birdlike creature cocked its head to one side. "So you will understand if he forbids you from leaving?"

"I suppose." Wheeljack looked at his hands as a flicker of blue shot through them. "But what would I do otherwise? What good am I here, to you guys? I might as well have not been brought back if I wasn't going to allowed to finish what I started."

Taki mulled over this information for a moment, before gently nudging Wheeljack's arm with his nose. "Don't dwell on things like that, Wheeljack." He suggested. "Let's do something to take your mind off that until a decision is made. Show me more forms that you know."

Wheeljack put a hand to his chin and stroked his battle mask thoughtfully. "Well, I guess I could show you human form… but, I don't really wanna take the form of any of the humans we knew."

"Then create your own."

Wheeljack looked down at him. "We can do that?"

"Of course!"

"Well, as long as that's the case…"

Wheeljack changed without hesitation, changing into a six foot tall, black haired, blue eyed, spectacled human male with thin limbs, and a long white lab coat over his green shirt and light grey pants. His hair was long, about waist length, and tied back in a loose pony tail.

Taki gave a flap of his wings and shrank to the size of a small hawk, before landing on the human shaped engineer's head. "That form suits you Wheeljack."

"You think so?" Wheeljack said, looking over his new form. It felt alright, that was for sure. Like his 'default' form did… and the form of the old Lancia he used to turn into. They felt right… normal.

He grinned and struck a pose, his coat flaring dramatically out behind him. Taki chuckled. "You're very funny."

Wheeljack offered a chuckle of his own "You don't get to be as brilliant as me by bein' borin'."

Just then, a pleasant chime echoed though the hall, followed by a deep voice. _**"This is Seimei Kikai. TakiRyu, Wheeljack, please, your presence is requested in the Resurrection Hall. I must speak with you both again."**_

Wheeljack blinked his sapphire eyes, before returning back to his default shape. "Maybe he's made a decision. Maybe I can go home now!"

While though thought of going back to Cybertron, or even Earth, clearly made the engineer very happy, TakiRyu was not so pleased. If Wheeljack was given permission to leave, he would, without doubt. Then… then Taki would lose his new friend… who he was growing more and more fond of.

But regardless, he took to the air, and flew after Wheeljack as he headed back the way they had come.

- - -

The large black machine that housed the consciousness of Seimei Kikai issued a stream of light blue smoke in greeting as the two Kata-Tenjimasu Kokoro entered the room.

**"Hello."** The King said politely.

"Hello." Wheeljack offered a wave, and Taki bowed his head for a moment. There was a pause, before the Autobot spoke up. "Am I going to be allowed to leave the station?" He asked.

Seimei seemed to hesitate. **"You are the first to want to leave the station permanently, you realise."**

"I wouldn't be surprised." Wheeljack said airily. "But…"

**"But, what could you offer us here?"** The machine cut in. **"You are a great engineer, Autobot. But our kind has no further need for inventions. We have our station, our small fleet of shuttles, and me. Even if we were to be attacked by some other race, an our belongings destroyed, we would continue on. The station could be rebuilt by the capable hands already in our ranks, our shuttles can easily be bought again, and I… I can forge myself anew should it be needed. Yes, what can you offer?"**

TakiRyu bristled. It sounded like their wise king was _insulting_ Wheeljack… but Seimei didn't do things like that… he didn't…

**"So," **The king continued, not oblivious to the birdlike creature's discomfort. **"I have come to this conclusion; you shall leave here."** He paused, noting Wheeljack's delighted gasp and expression. **"However…"**

"However?"

**"TakiRyu, I would like you to accompany him."**

Taki's jaw dropped open.

"Are… are you banishing me?"

**"Goodness no. Nor am I banishing Wheeljack. In fact, I encourage you both to come visit, often."** There was the feeling of a kind smile in the air. **"Taki, I'm not blind just because I have no eyes. You would feel quite sad, should Wheeljack leave you alone again."**

Taki flinched, and Wheeljack looked at the other creature in surprise and curiosity.

**"So go with him, Taki. Help him fulfil his purpose. And perhaps you can find your own, as well."**

- - -

The leader of Quintessence Station gave them some parting advice which they decided to heed; **"Before seeking your comrades, explore the rest of the Republic. We have neighbours of many cuts and calibres, and you can learn much from them."**

Wheeljack looked down at Taki. The engineer was in human form, sitting on his companion's back as he glided towards one of the nearby stations. "Taki? Are you okay?"

"Yes." He lied. "Just fine."

"Oh, shut up, you are not." Wheeljack quipped. "Come on bud, tell me what's wrong?"

Taki grumbled. "I've not left the station for centuries. Leaving doesn't bother you because you were there for… what, five hours?"

Wheeljack smiled. "You're homesick already? We can always go back again. Don't think of it as leaving, think of it as exploring, and learning things to take home with you. That's how I survived being on Earth, away from our home planet, Cybertron, for so long and not losing it."

"But…"

"Hey! Did I, or did I not tell you, to shut up? Just chill. You'll end up having so much fun you won't have time to be homesick."

Taki turned to look at the creature on his back. "You like that human form, don't you?"

"I do. It's quite comfortable, actually." He smirked. "Nice changing of the subject, by the way."

Taki flushed a little, and turned his eyes to the front again. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Life is too short for apologies."

"Wheeljack, we're eternal."

"So? Life is life. And hey, it's not like I was worrying about reaching the end of my lifespan before I was bumped off, so why would I bother now?"

Taki was quiet.

Wheeljack shimmied forward and gently pat the top of Taki's head. "Cheer up."

"…I'll try."

"Don't try, do." Wheeljack quoted, thanking the twins for making him watch that rather inspirational human movie.

Taki shook his head and sighed, but a smile found its way onto his face. Wheeljack noticed and smiled broadly himself, before looking forward, over Taki's head at the station they were headed for.

- - -

Just after the pair left, a shuttle returned to the station, and its pilots traversed the insides of the floating labyrinth to reach their leader.

"Sire, they accepted the gift." One of them announced, reaching the hall where Seimei Kikai resided.

**"Good. It would not do well for that body to remain here."**

The smaller creatures nodded. "We did not ask for anything in return… should we have?"

**"No."** Seimei said gently. **"They already do us a service in taking the body from us."**

"If I may sir, where did he and TakiRyu go?"

There was a pause.

**"They headed towards Verelen Station."**

"Verelen? Why would they visit Verelen? There is nothing of interest there."

**"To the explorer, everything new is of interest. But it is not the destination that is important, but the journey. From Verelen, they will head somewhere else, meet others, see many things that our kind normally would not bother to discover."**

There was silence as the Kata-Tenjimasu Kokoro took this in.

**"Yes, it is the journey that is of value. And they are in for a great journey indeed."**


End file.
